Prose? What's prose?

First. Things. First. I, along with other people with mixed up priorities and too much time on their hands, am FURIOUS that the Count responded with multiple Diner’s Journal entries addressing last week’s Life in the Fast Lane piece, but NOTHING, not a WORD, about the fact that he wrote last week’s (barely) starred review of Sascha in an A.R.Guerney style exchange of emails between himself and a mystery partner, SoOverSalsify@gmail.com.

Mouths were agape, the food world tittering with conjectures as to the identity of this too-cool-for-root interlocutor. Some even posited that it might be Tits Truly, which, sadly, it is not (I’m not over salsify).

But as a consolation prize for those frustrated with the total opacity of SoOverSalsify, at least we now know this from Frank's Journal:

“[Frank’s companion Kerry] was reading aloud the 'Us' magazine account of the Denise Richards-Heather Locklear feud. We had decided to use the long stretches of road between drive-through windows to catch up on our celebrity gossip."

I wonder if Kerry also French braided Frank’s hair so it would be awesomely crimped by the time they hit Tucson?

This week's review of Café D’Alsace to follow...